


Exposure Therapy

by ozsia



Series: The Ties That Bind Us [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Because The Only Place They Exist Is In Robin's Hopes and Dreams, Characters of Colour, Fictional Religion & Theology, M/M, No Physiologists Were Consulted On This Treatment, Protective Big Brother Chrom, Xenophobia, gynophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 06:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20688704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozsia/pseuds/ozsia
Summary: ‘I’ve been attempting to desensitise our gynophobic swordsman.’Chrom slowly blinks. ‘…and you’ve been doing this by…’‘Theatrics and fig-throwing.’'And the dress?''Did I stutter?'





	Exposure Therapy

Robin knows his plan to aid Lon’qu is strange. He’s heard as much from members of the company and the greater number of the army at large. Still, he doesn’t expect to feel so awkward once he gets back to his tent, and meets Chrom’s eyes; the prince has set himself up at Robin’s desk, his hands having faltered from their task of buffing Falchion’s blade when Robin entered. 

‘Chrom?’ Robin addresses after a moment. Going for some level of normalcy he knows he’s dressed away. ‘Do you need something?’ Chrom blinks slowly, raising an eyebrow as Robin walks further into his space and his appearance becomes more apparent to the prince.

‘Robin.’

‘Hm?’

‘Why are you dressed as a woman?’

Wearing makeup Miriel applied with fearsome precision, a wig Maribelle had given him, a dress that he bought from Anna and a corset from Lissa that she had to strap him into, it’s impossible to argue what Robin looks like. Though he assumed Chrom was aware of this and was just keeping quiet. From his obvious surprise and his bewildered attitude, that didn’t seem to be the case. 

Pulling the wig off of his head, Robin allows the long, russet curls to bunch in his hands as he shrugs and says: ‘I’ve been attempting to desensitise our gynophobic swordsman.’ He lays it on the thin pillow on his cot, careful not to damage the thing since it wasn’t his - and he wouldn’t know the first thing of how to fix it. Tugging the knot of his hair out of the tight bun, he almost sighs in relief as his own hair tumbles around his face and down his neck.

Chrom slowly blinks. ‘…and you’ve been doing this by…’

‘Theatrics and fig-throwing.’ 

Chrom seems to digest that for a moment. Eyes seemingly stuck on Robin as he begins the arduous process of unlacing his corset, once he’s shrugged out of the top of his dress. ‘And...you feel like this will be effective - _ because?’ _

Robin pauses, eyes narrowing as he meets Chrom’s gaze. ‘If you’ll wait a moment I’ll go consult the book that definitely doesn’t exist, about a condition no healer thinks is an issue,’ he responds pointedly. 

Chrom holds up his hands. ‘Alright, alright. I’m sorry. It’s just - strange.’ 

Robin grunts as he continues to loosen the laces, each inch the corset relaxes feels holy. Blessed. ‘I’m just concerned with how serious Lon’qu’s gynophobia is. He’s not socialising in camp and - well.’ He swallows dryly. ‘He seems to keep it together on the battlefield, but Chrom, I’m worried that he’s going to get hurt.’ 

Chrom’s jaw loosens in surprise as he takes that into account. They’ve been fortunate so far; that Lon’qu manages to keep it together on the battlefield. But can his will hold over? ‘I - hadn’t thought about that.’ 

Robin inclines his head, even as he manages to remove the corset; throwing it onto his cot without thought as he turns to properly address Chrom, dress swinging around his booted ankles. ‘Basilio practically gift wrapped him for us, but Lon'qu is obviously a valued warrior to him, regardless of our own obligations.’ Truly, if Robin couldn’t fix this, and Lon’qu is slain, it wouldn’t only sour relationships between Ylisse and Ferox - something they couldn’t afford, but Robin doesn’t think he could forgive himself. 

‘So, your first thought was to crossdress?’ 

Robin snorts bitterly. ‘No,’ he says in a tone where the words “you idiot” are heavily implied, ‘my first thought was to partner Lon’qu with one of our female soldiers - Sumia seemed like a good choice, for training - but he outright refused Frederick when I had him make the suggestion. No one _ refuses _Frederick. Then I thought setting Lon’qu up at watch with Miriel would ease him into it a bit more...and Lon'qu stayed for his whole shift -’

‘Well, that’s something -’

‘In a tree. He climbed a _ tree, _Chrom,’ Robin emphasises through his teeth as his hands curls in frustration

‘Ah.’ Chrom winces. 

‘So that was less than successful too. Honestly, my next move would’ve been to ask you to set him up as Lissa’s bodyguard. She’s small and about as non-threatening as we get, but...she likes to push barriers, to prank people and - I didn’t want her getting offended when it backfires on her.’ 

Chrom tilts his head. ‘Not Lon’qu?’

Robin shrugs and without sympathy says, ‘it’d honestly probably do him some good.’

‘Right.’ Chrom is squinting at him. ‘And...what you’re doing now...isn’t this just _ you _ pushing?’ 

Robin’s wordless noise of grievance is enough confirmation. ‘I was just hoping to desensitise him. Logically Lon’qu knows that I’m not a woman. I figure if I can shock him enough, then maybe he’ll apply that logic to the other women in camp.’ 

‘Make him think of the other women as men?’ 

‘Yes - no! Just - learn to associate with them as he does with men,’ Robin attempts to explain, though he knows it’s more than a little convoluted. And perhaps insensitive, because he doesn’t believe a man like Lon’qu just _ developed _such a phobia on its own.

‘And what if that logic just makes him think you’re a madman in a wig?’

Robin pauses. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about that. ‘Well, he didn’t recognise me to start with and his response was standard to how he reacts to the other women in camp, before he realised.’ 

Chrom frowns. ‘...and now that he knows?’ 

‘Oh, that’s what the figs are for.’ 

‘Pardon?’

‘This area has an abundance of figs, so I’ve been using them to my advantage in planned assaults against him.’ Robin doesn’t waste the figs either. Their skins are surprisingly resilient, so after his onslaught is finished, and Lon’qu is gone, Robin just goes back, picks them up and uses them for desert. After they’ve been properly cleaned, of course. 

‘What on earth _ for?!’ _ Chrom exclaims in bafflement. 

‘Well, to make him think I’m a madman in a wig, whatever else?’ Robin comments dryly as he begins to unbutton his dress’ overcoat. It’s a little fiddly due to how small the shell buttons are and how stiff the sown holes seem to be. The lack of gloves helps, though.

‘Robin.’ 

Robin ignores Chrom’s tone; the aggrieved demand for more information, but does give a more honest answer. ‘They’re a distraction, so he’s not thinking about who I am or how close I get.’ 

‘And this _ works?’ _

The blue of Chrom’s eyes are practically swallowed by his sclera when Robin reluctantly looks back up. ‘You don’t trust me, Chrom?’

‘You know I do.’ Chrom huffs, nose wrinkling in chagrin. ‘This is just - strange.’ 

That word seems to be cropping up more and more. Robin can’t even blame Chrom for it. The circumstances certainly seemed to call for it. Still. ‘Yes. Well, I’ll take “strange” over Lon’qu dead.’ 

‘I understand that,’ Chrom says tentatively, hands hopeless fidgeting with Falchion’s pummel. ‘Just...don’t you think this could hurt your relationship with him? Or your status in the camp, for that matter?’

Robin sighs. That was a concern of his; their men no longer taking him seriously and Lon’qu coming to dislike him, both in equal measures. However, he’s not one to shy away from a problem. ‘I’ve been doing this for nearly a week now and - obviously Lon’qu has grown wary of me and my...antics. But he maintains his professionalism when he’s not screaming at me and running away.’ Which is as much as Robin could hope for, really. 

That doesn’t seem to soothe Chrom. ‘Robin -’

‘The camp as a whole? The women are actually very supportive,’ Robin continues, intent on not allowing Chrom to finish wherever that thought was going. ‘They’ve been helping me with the wig, makeup and...undergarments. They seem especially happy to dress me up. I think my lack of criticism about things labeled as feminine has allowed them a level of comfort around me. The men - are just confused. There’ve been some jokes, but nothing malicious.’ 

At least - not all the jokes. Some of their soldiers and Feroxians weren’t as accepting, but this dressup was easier to defend than being Plegian, which is far harder to deal with the consequences for. That’s not something Chrom needs to know, though. There’s nothing the prince could do, regardless. He'd end up just feeling guilty and defensive, if Robin did open up about his issues in the company. 

Chrom wrinkles his nose, lips pulling downwards. ‘I see…’ He hesitates for a moment before standing and smoothly sliding Falchion in its sheath. He swiftly closes the distance between to earnestly say: ‘Just - inform me if someone takes a joke too far.’ 

Robin hums, eyes averted and takes the opportunity to pull the overcoat off of him. If only to begin a more airtight distraction, or attempt at an air of nonchalance. 

‘Don’t worry -’

‘Robin,’ Chrom interrupts sternly, and Robin has no choice but to look up, overcoat clenched and hanging in an unruly bunch between his hands. ‘You’re my _ second in command _. My friend. You’ve been like family to Lissa and myself. We take care of family.’ 

Robin swallows thickly and inclines his head, even if he can’t quite look Chrom in the eye. ‘...thank you, bhaee,’ he responds, with the Plegian word for “brother” heavy on his tongue, and _ means _it, even if he’s avoiding what Chrom really wants him to promise. Instead, he redirects. ‘Can you help me remove my bra? I still haven’t gotten the hang of it.’ 

And just like that, the tension is gone; the seriousness of the atmosphere robbed along with the sincerity and all the things Robin would prefer to say. The honesty he could impact but doesn’t. 

‘I suppose I can.’ Chrom snorts with a roll of his eyes.

‘...you’re taking this well.’ Though Robin can tell, despite them both being male, Chrom’s gaze is rather fixed to his face. Amusing, really. There’s no modesty for Robin to need to protect after all, or for Chrom to be shy about.

‘Still not the weirdest thing you’ve asked of me. Close, admittedly,’ Chrom replies and Robin’s amusement halts, because he can’t mean - ‘Congratulations, you’ve almost upped your request about that chick-’

‘Will you _ never _let that go?’ Robin demands, cutting Chrom off. There’s no one else here but that doesn’t mean he wants that information out in the open. 

‘I don’t know, do you think the chicken will? After what you -’

‘Alright!’ Robin snaps, ‘I’ll just struggle with my bra myself, shall I?’

‘Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist. I’ll - help.’

‘Ha. Ha.’ Robin enunciates the laugh as he feels Chrom’s hands tentatively brush against Robin’s back when Robin turns - poking around the clasp, before they seem to grow confident and begin to pull at it. Chrom fights with the hooks for a moment, until he manages to undo them. Luckily, without breaking it. ‘There.’ 

Robin utters his thanks, and with a great deal of relief - removes that article of clothing from his body. Flinging that too, onto his bed. The filling that padded the cups falls onto the floor, but Robin figures he can deal with that later as he goes to pull his shirt out of his duffle bag. 

‘Wait,’ Chrom says. Perfect timing, Robin’s head is stuck in his shirt. ‘Has the - bra, been hurting you?

_ Ah, _Robin thinks as he finishes pulling his shirt on. Chrom must have seen where the bra was digging into his skin; witnessed the redness and irritation. Robin shrugs. ‘No more than for an actual woman. They’re uncomfortable. I suppose I should give thanks that I get to remove it once I’m finished with Lon’qu.’ 

‘I see…’ Chrom says, but it’s obvious he’s not that happy about it. He lets it go though, as Robin perches on the edge of his cot, uncaring about the dress still half on him. He’s grown used to it in the time he’s been wearing it, and skirts aren’t unusual for men in Plegian, from what he’s seen. They're actually quite common, though admittedly not in this style or colour. 

‘Chrom?’ Robin prompts as he settles now that he’s more comfortable, and Chrom’s less distracted. ‘Do I want to know what had you waiting on me?’ 

‘Oh - oh I don’t know, Robin. You seem to have your hands full.’ Chrom hesitates, gesticulating at Robin, who’s always busy no matter the time of day, with maps and battle formations, or with managing their supplies and organising with Anna, or when dealing with the new recruits he’s responsible for to socialising or organising their training of. 

‘Women are good at multitasking, Chrom,’ Robin insists with a twitch of his lip. A joke that Chrom doesn’t quite seem to get, if his tilted head is anything to go by.

‘What -’

‘Tell me what you need,’ Robin insists.

‘Are you sure -?’

‘Bhaee.’ It’s one of the few Plegian words Chrom knows, and he always responds to it.

Chrom huffs a soft laugh and pulls Robin’s desk stool closer to the bed so they’re opposite each other. ‘Truly, you’re a blessing from Anankos Himself.’ He smiles, less teasing now and far sappier. Chrom’s been softening around Robin and Lissa recently, as tension grows thicker and thicker. Robin doesn’t quite understand it, but he knows it’s indicative of an issue. One Chrom’s yet to open up about.

Robin tries to return the expression, best he can. Chrom has basically said that Robin is a gift from Fate. ‘I feel like Grima would be offended to hear that.’ He doesn’t often draw attention to what he is around people, but Chrom isn’t _ people _ and he’s never thought differently of Robin for who he is, or the brand he carries. 

‘I’m sure He can tell me His complaints when I pass from Naga’s domain,’ Chrom suggests and despite the light quality of both their voices, he’s still trying to delay whatever it is he wants to say. That's fine, if he didn't do it with suggestions of his eventual death.

‘Chrom.’ 

‘You’re my second,’ Chrom states, apropos of nothing.

‘...right.’ Robin blinks slowly. As Chrom keeps saying. ‘You’ve - announced that, I suppose. Are - is there something wrong with our course or?’ 

‘No. No,’ Chrom is quick to assure but that’s all that he’s quick to say. ‘I need...advice.’ 

‘Of course. What can I do for you, Captain?’ Robin asks warily. He’d thought they’d already established that, but alright. They can go slow if that’s what Chrom needs from this conversation

‘I need - there’s…’ Chrom stutters as Robin continues to wait this out, before he buries his face in his hands and groans. ‘Cordelia is - she propositioned me.’ 

Robin freezes - alright. Not so slow, then. He feels himself stare. ‘I didn’t think she had that in her.’ 

‘Yes, it was rather out of character. She was very - wait.’ Chrom straightens a bit, revealing his wide eyes. ‘You _ knew?’ _

Robin blinks. ‘Of course I did. You put me in charge of a lot when you took me on, Chrom. Relations was just one aspect.’ A large one, but he’s been keeping an eye on their troops before Chrom solidified his position in the army. He’s very on top of it. 

_ ‘You knew?’ _

‘It was rather obvious.’ 

‘How was it -?!’

‘Agni _ wept _ , Chrom.’ The dragon of Fire and Love would - Robin doesn't know. He runs a hand through his hair, further ruffling it as he continues to gaze at Chrom incredulously. ‘Her face is permanently on fire when you’re around, she’s professional but her eyes follow you _ everywhere. _ She talks about you like you’re Naga’s gift and - I love you, but I’ve seen you accidentally walk into the women’s bathing tent. _ ’ _

‘Oh.’ Chrom’s face is flaming, devastated and mortified. 

_ ‘Oh,’ _ Robin parrots grimly. He sighs and straightens up. He’d rather hoped this specific - fixation, would dissipate soon enough. ‘The question now, of course, is what you want to do about it. Or what you’ve _ done _about it.’ 

‘Well..’ 

‘_ Chrom.’ _

‘I didn’t know how to respond! It was so sudden and - her face when she blurted that out! She was so embarrassed! She ran off and - yes, I may have frozen for a moment, but…’ 

‘Grima give me patience.’ Robin moans, eyes squeezing shut as a headache brews. Attempting to aid Lon’qu on top of easing Nowi into camp life is more than enough to keep himself occupied with the other personal dramas he’s unwittingly involved in. He can't have another one now. ‘Tell me up front what you feel for that knight, Chrom. Think about it. Because you only have one opportunity to decline or accept.’

‘I...I’ve never thought about her that way. I barely know her!’

‘No, you don’t.’ Robin nods slowly. While a few of their company had begun the steps to settle down, they’d all known each other for a while. They have a couple that hadn’t needed that history, and that’s fine too. For Chrom and how carefully he guards his relationships, someone he doesn’t have much of a connection with confessing would be nothing but uncomfortable.

Chrom nods back, relieved at Robin’s understanding. ‘She’s - beautiful and I can tell she’s diligent and a good soldier, an excellent fighter, but…’

Robin sighs through his nose. ‘You don’t return her feelings.’ 

‘No.’

Robin makes a noise in confirmation. This would be - awkward. Cordelia was at least incredibly devoted to the cause, with or without Chrom, so it shouldn’t affect her performance. Robin felt a great amount of sympathy for her, truly, it’s unfortunate and he didn’t see her propositioning Chrom like she did, if not for her mental state at the moment. 

Still, Chrom would have to be the one to fix this. To soothe the already bungled situation. Robin couldn’t do it if he wanted to. And he really, _ really _ doesn’t. He takes a breath. ‘Alright,’ he says, ‘this is what you’re going to do: find her when she’s alone, don’t make a scene out of it and tell her that then. Keep your words simple, straight to the point. Allow her to know that this incident changes nothing or her position with us - now or in the future, and then give her space.’ 

Chrom winces. ‘But..isn’t that…?’ 

‘What? Rude? Chrom, it’s how you feel. You need to be upfront about it. No one likes to be - messed around with, when it comes to confessions.’ Idly. Chrom would have responded properly at the time and avoided this entirely. ‘Do it as gently as you can. Obviously, she’s only recently suffered a horrific loss. She’s not thinking straight.’ 

Chrom’s lips thin and he buries his face back into his hands. ‘Right,’ he says and it’s muffled, ‘thanks. I’ll try.’ 

‘It might not feel - good,’ Robin says, wording it mildly, ‘but you’ll both benefit from making this as quick and as painless as possible. Don’t draw this out and give her false hope that you might be thinking of accepting her offer.’

‘Right,’ Chrom repeats, peeking through his fingers. ‘Sorry, I’m not...good, with this type of thing.’ 

‘I think you’ll do just fine.’ 

Chrom snorts dubiously. ‘Yes, I’m sure plenty of men turn to their second’s for love advice.’ 

Robin laughs. ‘To be fair to you - though this wasn’t what I thought you needed help with, it’s not the first time a member of the company has come to me with this sort of problem.’

That seems to startle Chrom out of hiding, hands dropping to his lap. ‘...what? Why?’ He shakes his head, probably hearing how that sounds, ‘I mean - I trust you and you’re family. Actually - no. I get it.’ 

Robin raises an eyebrow, trying not to feel flattered at that. ‘I think a few were looking for permission; they didn’t want to hurt my balance on the battlefield. Others...I couldn’t tell you.’

‘Because they trust you and you’re family?’ Chrom smiles through the repetition. 

‘Chrom -’

‘You do a lot for us, Robin. When I asked you to be our tactician, I didn’t expect what you’d do with the position. Just look what you’re doing for Lon’qu! He’ll - appreciate it, eventually. And don’t think I don’t know how much you’ve been helping everyone else. I’d like to know when you sleep.’ 

Robin snorts. ‘I don’t.’

‘That explains it,’ Chrom replies, dry as the Plegian dessert and just as impressed. 

Robin hesitates for a moment as insecurity unravels inside him. ‘...you truly don’t have anything to say about it?’

‘Say about what? Your nocturnal activities? I don’t, at the moment, but I’m sure Vedika does.’ Chrom pauses a moment, maybe contemplating the Dragon God of Night, before leaning into Robin’s space to examine his face. ‘Actually, the circles under your eyes are getting darker -’

‘No.’ Robin shakes his head. ‘No. How I’m caring for Lon’qu.’ 

‘You said it, Robin. You’re _ caring _. How could I complain about that?’ 

Robin glances to the side. He’s tried to feel shameless about it, but he’s still surprised that Chrom doesn’t have any opinion on the matter. ‘The way I’m - behaving. I know I’m eccentric and my methods can be unusual but this, I realise, is extreme even for the past examples I’ve set -’

‘Robin, I have not - nor will I have a problem, with your “eccentricities”. Compared to some of the company, you’re placid in comparison. I’m…’ Chrom pauses a moment before placing a shoulder on Robin’s shoulder. ‘You remember when I first found you?’ 

Robin smiles weakly, barely a tilt of his lips. ‘Sometimes I feel like it’s the only thing I _ do _remember.’ 

‘You were a mess, a good push from falling over. You felt - vulnerable, and desperate to keep it together. When we left you on that road to aid Yodall, I didn’t expect you to chase after us to offer your own help. I didn’t think you _ could. _ But you saved the day for us, then. And despite the situation, you haven’t stopped since.’ Chrom takes a breath, and gently squeezes Robin’s shoulder. ‘You’ve lectured me about rushing into situations half-cocked, the risks I take when helping people. Well, you truly can’t say you're any better.’ 

‘What -?’

‘You think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been helping Donny settle in? Or the hours you’ve spent with Miriel with her mother’s notes? The time you’ve given Frederick despite his past attitude, doing - whatever it is you’ve been doing. The care you’ve put into making Nowi feel more at ease given her circumstances, or all the things you do for Lissa.’ 

‘That’s just - what anyone would do.’ 

Chrom snorts. ‘It’s really not. I don’t know half of it. I know I don’t. I’m not blessed by Grima like you are; I don’t have the talent of stretching the hours in the day to fit it all in. But you crossdressing - Robin, you could do it full time. I wouldn’t care.’ 

‘You’re not -’

‘Not what?’ 

‘...ashamed. That you have a second in command, that’s…’ 

Suddenly Chrom’s face is thunderous and Robin knows he may have said too much. ‘Why?’ Chrom asks, silent and deadly, ‘has someone said as much?’

Robin’s lips pursed. Lying by omission is one thing but…

'Robin?’ 

Robin clears his throat. Tense and awkward and feeling - more than ever, like an eyesore that doesn’t belong. He looks away. ‘We’ve digressed, haven’t we?’ 

‘Robin -’

‘If you’re fine with this course of treatment, do I have your permission to continue?’ 

Chrom’s brow is severe as he gazes seriously at Robin. Lips pursed. He wants to say more. Robin can see it easily. ‘You don’t need my permission, you know I’d sign off on whatever you think is best.’ 

‘Excellent.’ 

**Author's Note:**

> This...was not what I'd post first after such a long hiatus but. I don't know. I have no explanation for this. If anyone's curious and hasn't read any of my other stuff; Grima holds dominion over more than death; he's the source of time, too. Because it makes sense and why write fanfiction if you can't use your headcanons. 
> 
> Anankos is the dragon of fate which hopefully explains Chrom's comment. The dusk dragon, patron of Nohr, dominion of night, is Vedika. And Agni is dragon of flame; is contracted through Elfire and stuff. 
> 
> Anyway, yeah. I hope someone reads and enjoys this.


End file.
